“Not quite a student and not quite a favorite,” replied Kornik, whose full attention was devoted to the girl, “but there is a certain something about him. Mahan, allow me to introduce the loveliest Shaman that I’ve ever met on this plane—Kalatea. She has flown to us from Astrum and I am already beginning to entertain the idea of doing some traveling. If such beauties become Harbingers, this world will survive a long while yet!”
The goblin turned his attention back to Kalatea and here I realized something. Once upon a time, I was ‘fortunate’ enough to receive the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ achievement, when in the guise of an ugly green toad I seduced some dark goblins. Of course Kornik was not dark, but he was a goblin, and it was therefore highly probable that orcish maidens too made him swoon. He may be knee-high to a grasshopper, but in his mind he’s a Casanova, another love-struck goblin.
“It’s a pleasure to meet the head of the Order of the Dragon,” I greeted the girl.
“Mahan,” Kalatea nodded in my direction, forcing a sigh of adoration from Kornik. It seems that the girl had grown quite tired of the NPC’s attentions because she turned to him and said, “I’d like to speak with Mahan. May I? I’ll return after I’m done, and we will continue our tour of Anhurs. Okay?”
Kornik mumbled something, his eyes filled with sadness, but then, as if suddenly having thought of something, he perked up, grinned and vanished. And this is the eternally wry Harbinger of Malabar? Shamans these days…
“I never imagined goblins have such a thing for orcs,” Kalatea complained. “I’ve been in Anhurs only a couple weeks and I’m already dreaming of the day I go back. Anywhere I look—there’s Kornik. Tell me, what’s your Spirit Rank?”
“Nine.”
“Nine?” Kalatea asked, surprised. “How did you manage to summon the Air Spirit of Communication then? He’s Rank 10, after all. Are you specialized in Air too?”
I decided keep mum about having summoned the Spirit of Communication back when I was still Rank 1, so I simply shrugged my shoulders, allowing Kalatea the opportunity to come up with her own answer.
“I see. You don’t wish to share such information. That’s reasonable, what can I say? But can you tell me a bit about yourself? How did you become a Shaman? Why did you choose this class? How did you pass your first initiation? I have so many questions that I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I have plenty of questions for you too,” I interrupted Kalatea. “How did you manage to become head of the Shamans? How did you become a Harbinger? How did you obtain so much reputation with the Spirits? And how did you abort my call to you just now? Trust me, I have no fewer questions than you, if not more.”
“Let’s have a chat then,” Kalatea smiled. “I propose we take turns: You ask, then I ask. It’ll be more efficient that way.”
“All right,” I agreed, “but I need to take care of some business first. I’m all yours after that.”
“We prefer the term ‘quest.’ It’s some ancient term, I guess. So do you need to go somewhere urgently?”
“No, I can take care of it here just as well. I have to replace the current head of the Shaman Council.”
“WHAT?!” roared Kalatea, but I had already switched my attention to the task at hand. The Shaman Mentor was standing nearby. The time had come to resolve the Prontho issue.
“How can I help you, brother?”
“I need to call the Shaman Council. What do I need in order to do that?”
“A High Shaman requires a fairly serious reason,” came a strange, male voice from behind me, “in order to summon the Shaman Council. As head of the Council, I am prepared to hear you out and determine whether the summons is justified. If I approve, the Council will gather immediately. If, however, I reject your request, you will lose a rank. Do you insist on summoning the Shaman Council?”
I turned to see Shiam—the current head of the Shaman Council. He was about a head taller than me. A red fluttering cape, a hat with horns, a staff, a tambourine and mallet hanging from his belt—the High Shaman was dressed in full combat gear. All he needed was a Totem and he’d be ready to go into battle.
“Not only do I insist on summoning the Council,” I replied without taking my eyes from the dark and shining, almost black, eyes of the Shaman, “but I intend on accusing its head of treachery! This, for his use of Shadows in the duel with Prontho and for his revealing to Geranika how to catch Kornik.” This last accusation came out of me unwittingly, spurred no doubt by my feelings. The question of how Geranika had managed to catch the Harbinger had not given me peace for a long time. Kornik could move instantly from one place to another, and yet Geranika had bound him and delivered him to the castle of the Fallen. How? The only explanation that lent itself was betrayal. Yet who could betray a Harbinger and how, remained a mystery—until now, when, seeing Shiam, the pieces fell into place. Kornik’s capture was the work of the head of the Council.
“This is a very serious accusation,” Shiam replied with a smirk. “I believe you have spent too much time in the sun today and your brains have gone half-baked. I have never heard a more stupid accusation leveled at my person. Where is your evidence? You have none! My decision is as follows: A false accusation is not sufficient grounds to summon the Council. I therefore strip you of your rank as High Shaman and demote you to Elemental Shaman! This decision shall enter force and effect right this very…”
“THE WORD HAS BEEN UTTERED AND DEMANDS CONSIDERATION, SHIAM!” It was as if the surrounding world had gone mad when the Supreme Spirits of both worlds spoke. Even the trees shook, bowing deep unto the earth. The napping players jumped to their feet and began looking about, frantic to understand what had awoken them, while the swimmers paddled desperately for the banks. No one wished to find themselves having to respawn. “THIS ACCUSATION IS FAR TOO GRAVE TO ALLOW YOU TO REMAIN THE HEAD OF THE COUNCIL! IF MAHAN IS SPEAKING FALSELY, HE SHALL BE DEMOTED TO BEGINNER SHAMAN. IF NOT—YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED! KORNIK! WHILE THE INVESTIGATION IS PENDING, YOU SHALL ACT AS HEAD OF THE SHAMAN COUNCIL. THAT IS ALL!”
“I abide by the words of my Lords,” said the goblin Harbinger, appearing a few steps away from me and casting an unfriendly look at the former head of the Council. This time around, the goblin had none of his earlier Casanova airs. It was as though the orcess was not standing beside him. “So that was your doing, was it, Shiam? In all of Barliona, there were but three sentients who knew where I would appear and when—and it was exactly then and there that I found Geranika waiting for me.”
“Your pupil lies,” Shiam parried calmly. “He cannot furnish a single shred of evidence for his words.”
“PERHAPS HE CANNOT! BUT THE SHAMAN COUNCIL CAN! KORNIK, SUMMON THE COUNCIL. THE TIME HAS COME TO TURN TO HISTORY TO UNEARTH WHAT TOOK PLACE IN THE DUEL BETWEEN PRONTHO AND SHIAM!”
“As you wish, oh Lords,” Kornik bowed his head without, however, looking away from Shiam. Then, he smirked and vanished.
“What can I say,” the former head of the Council said to me for some reason, “your accusation has been heard and recorded. Kornik will return soon, the Council will assemble, and everyone shall see the truth. But before that happens, I, High Shaman Shiam the Altarin, challenge High Shaman Mahan to a duel! Your punishment will come now! I will avenge my brother! Prepare to fight!”
You have been attacked by an NPC and may respond. Please note that this attack is part of an ongoing quest. Therefore, you are allowed to use the Dragon’s Breath spell without having reached Dragon Rank 50.
Damage taken: 50,232 (52,411 from Supreme Spirit - 2,179 from Magic resistance). Total Hit Points: 1 of 29,510.
During the ‘Restoration of Justice’ quest, you may take up to ten hits from the former head of the Shaman Council.
“What?” Shiam’s scream could probably be heard throughout all of Anhurs. Rising from the ground, where the Spirit’s attack had thrown me, I shook my head to bring myself back to consciousness and smiled. It hurt—true—but I have ten hits worth of breathing ro
om during which I need to make sure that Shiam is sent to an early retirement.
“The Supreme Spirits are on your side, Mahan!” Shiam yelled mistakenly, still not understanding why he could not destroy me. Another two summoned Spirits didn’t do anything to me, besides reducing my regained hit points back to one. “However, Geranika taught me a thing or two.”
As he spoke these words, Shadows began to form in the hands of the former head of the Shaman Council. That was that—Shiam had exposed himself. Although one Shaman challenging another to a duel is not exactly uncommon, the use of such entities in battle was unequivocally anathema to everything the Shamans believed. Consequently, Shiam would never again become head of…
Quest ‘Restoration of Justice’ completed. Speak to the head of the Council to receive your reward.
“I will deprive you of your Shamanic powers! Even if it costs me my life!” roared Shiam, aiming the Shadows at me. The distance between us was not great, about twenty meters, so I had absolutely no time to consider what I should do. The time had come to react and do so promptly.
Single combat, or a duel as they called it, is a highly regulated affair. Step to the left or step to the right and you could be held in violation, and therefore, forced to forfeit. During the duel, the duelists may use anything in their arsenal—Spirits, fists, boots, claws, tails, fire. The Shadows that Shiam was resorting to, however, were not natural to our class, nor to his race, and were therefore forbidden. I am a Dragon after all! By the way, if Shadows are prohibited, why is Shiam still attacking me? And where is Kornik? Why hasn’t the duel been called off? I only have six free hits remaining. I could throw the Spirits I had at Shiam until the end of my sentence for all the good it would do, so remembering that I could now use ‘Dragon’s Breath,’ I decided to transform. The transformation took only a few moments, at which point a new notification appeared before me:
Do you wish to activate Acceleration level 1?
Back in the Dark Forest, the Patriarch absolutely forbade me from attacking anything, explaining that Dragon’s breath was a very dangerous weapon. Had I breathed even a couple times, the Dark Forest would have become a plain of ash. As a result, this would be my first time using my new race’s attack. Once upon a time, Draco had reached his Acceleration level 6, almost losing his tail in the process like a common lizard—now, the time had come for me to find out what my Totem had felt.
The fiery breath scattered the Shadows as if they’d never existed. Very good. I was afraid I’d have to embody them first and then destroy them. A single flap of my wings brought me right up to Shiam. The time had come to play firefighter.
“Nooo!” Shiam’s pained scream tore across the training grounds. “I will destroy you, you overgrown lizard! You shall not live!”
Damage taken…
Do you wish to activate Acceleration level 2?
The first level of acceleration had not hurt Shiam very much. Even though he was probably pretty hot, he had nevertheless managed to throw a protective dome over himself, which negated the damage from my flame. He had even somehow found the time to throw another salvo of Shadows at me! I had five hits left! No, things could not carry on like this. I had to activate Acceleration level 2.
“You can’t win!” yelled Shiam, summoning another Shadow. A percussion ensemble struck up a rickety tune inside my head, but I kept my concentration and went on gradually burning through the Shaman’s protective dome. It’s too bad that I could only use Dragon’s Breath in this particular quest—it was a nice little trick. If I could ignore these booming drums, most players wouldn’t stand a chance against me. In particular those who were accustomed to fighting up close, like the Warriors and the Rogues! I’d just take off, accelerate and begin to pour fire from above, ignoring all attempts to prod me with swords and daggers. Hellfire would definitely enjoy that sight.
But Acceleration level 2 did not do much good. Healing Spirits were restoring Shiam’s hit points almost as soon as I managed to burn through his defenses. To make things worse, Shiam was recasting the dome of protection as soon as he lost it. I would have to burn harder. A flute had now joined the percussion in my skull, but I didn’t have any other choice—I don’t want to surrender and hand Shiam over to the Council for his comeuppance: He’s the one who started it with his Shadows, and I intend on sending him to the place where he got them from.
Do you wish to activate Acceleration level 3?
There were no more flutes to join the orchestra, which was a good thing, yet now a weariness across my entire body joined the drums. I immediately recalled my combat with Prontho, when my body suddenly turned to dough that desired only to go soft upon the ground and forget its horrible suffering. A strange metallic taste appeared in my mouth, my eyes were tearing up, but the result was inspiring me—Shiam could only defend himself now, as if he had entirely forgotten how to attack! He was yelling something or other as he recast his dome and summoned healing spirits over and over again—but I could not tell what, since it was impossible to hear over the raging fire. Damn! I still wasn’t getting anywhere! I’d have to try harder!
Do you wish to activate Acceleration level 4?
At Acceleration level 4, I understood that this was my limit. The drums and the unearthly weight was now topped off by a savage pain that tore my body into tiny pieces. I don’t know how the victim of an acid attack feels, but at the moment my body felt aflame. The pain was so hellish that I understood very clearly that I would not be able to bear the next level of Acceleration. I gathered the last (and desperately escaping) vestiges of my consciousness and concentrated on Shiam. It was all or nothing. There was no other option. And still I refused to hand Shiam over to Kornik!
Seven seconds was all I had left of Acceleration level 4, after which my flame would be spent and I’d revert back to being a pumpkin: a large and immobile heap.
“BROTHER!” the wild cry of the head of the Council, mixed with notes of hysteria and anguish, cut through the roar of my flame.
Five seconds!
“PLEASE HELP ME, BROTHER!”
Three!
“SAVE ME!”
Two! A red portal appeared next to Shiam and the former head of the Shaman Council, escaped the training grounds with a hop.
One! That was it—my Acceleration had run out and I was left utterly useless, even as a Dragon. All I could do was maybe bash someone with my tail—if there was someone, that is. It was all too bad—Shiam only had ten percent of his Hit Points left when he escaped. And yet, had he tarried, I would not have been able to finish him off. I’m too weak of a Dragon, even for this quest!
You have won the duel.
Your reputation with the Spirits of the Higher and Lower worlds has increased by 1000. Current level: Friendly. Points remaining until Respectful: 1390.
Endurance increased by 1. Total: 139.
The ‘Dragon’s Breath’ spell has been locked.
All I could manage after the last level of Acceleration was to open my eyes and look around. Like an ugly scar, an enormous scorched area where Shiam had stood blemished the green training grounds of the Shamans. A crowd of players had gathered around the spot, joined by Shaman mentors, Almis, Kalatea, Kornik. The gathering was looking at me as if trying to make up their minds whether I was alive or not, so I gathered my strength and managed a smile. I don’t know whether Dragons can even smile, or what such an animation would look like, but I figured that this was the right gesture. It turned out to be a bad idea too…My eyes filmed over, making the world go dark, and I nodded off into a gentle and pleasant darkness, which finally and at last, silenced the horrible marching band in my head.
* * *
“Maybe he’s dead?” Through the patina of non-being, I heard a voice that brought me back to consciousness.
“You won’t see the day!” I growled, trying to open my eyes and get to my, well, paws. It seems that I was still in Dragon Form, which means that less than twenty minutes had passed since my combat with Shiam.
>
“Get up or you’ll get frostbite on your tail.” Draco’s familiar voice forced me to make one last attempt and open my eyes. Renox, Draco and several other dragons were staring at me like some freak of nature. Although, no—Draco was looking at me as he usually did, but the others…
“How did you manage to open a portal to here?” my adopted father asked when I finally managed to regain my legs. This was the first time I had found myself in this world while in Dragon Form. I could hardly feel the deep cold.
“What are you asking him for?” came the reply from somewhere nearby. I looked over and smiled—Kornik in the flesh and with Kalatea beside him too! “This feathered miracle just activated Acceleration level 4, while only a Rank 5 Dragon, and somehow managed not to give up the ghost in the process,” he said. Glancing at Kalatea, he smiled and added, “Weren’t you asking why he was my favorite pupil? He keeps pulling such fancy tricks that my eyes can’t believe what they see. There’s never a dull moment with him!”
“Fourth?” Renox asked with surprise. He looked at Kornik, at me, and then back at the goblin. “How did he manage to survive?”
“That’s what I’m saying—what are you asking him for? You, uh, you should maybe teach him something too. Or next time he’ll activate Acceleration level 5 and that will be it. Our precocious salamander will be toast. He will shut himself within and never become a Dragon again. Is that what you want?”
“He is still too young for Rank 5,” Renox muttered. “Are you sure it was Acceleration level 4?”
“Well, think about it. How could he find his way here without a portal? The only answer is that he was on the very edge of exhaustion. Anyway, enough pulling the Dragon by his tail. Increase his Rank already,” Kornik fell silent, then smiled and added, “He earned it.”
The Phantom Castle (The Way of the Shaman: Book #4) LitRPG series Page 6